This Thing They Call Depression

Reads: 201  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
What depression is to me.

Submitted: August 09, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 09, 2013

A A A

A A A


What is this thing they call Depression?

A wretched disease.

A black plauge comsuming every joyful syllable,

Before it can roll off your tongue.

Greedily it gulps.

It rolls through your soul in a nightmarish fog.

Great, cold waves, leaving but a barren wasteland in their wake.

Dark hands,

Wrapping around your throat,

Choking out life and suffocating colors,

You fluttering breath, fading, means nothing.

Sit and stare with hollow eyes as as the paints of your soul bleed out.

And what is left?

Grey.

Your life is grey.

Your very breath a dull, emotionless color, your very existence.

And it is all you can do to witness yourself,

Slowly unwraveling,

Thread by ash-staind thread.

As this thing they call Depression washes you away.

 

 


© Copyright 2020 Nocturnal Ponderings. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply